I Swallow Mangoes Whole

Zainab Saeed, South Africa

Mango drips from the corner of my mouth—

Summer was always sweet

Yet sticky. Memory feels the same.

Sunlit rooftops and orange wasps

On the tips of my fingers;

I lick the sweetness off my skin

And swallow the pain of the sting.

There is a child’s laughter beneath an evergreen tree

As she dances in a dress the colour of sunflowers

And anemones. The colour never did look quite right

Against the palette of my skin, but I am stung raw

And painted in every hue of black and blue—

Do I not contrast beautifully?

Summer is the ripest fruit

Covered in the most bitter peel lodged between

Bleeding gums. I have memorised the feel of leather

Pressed into my teeth and I smile, a mouthful

Of bright red and deep yellow.

Mango and blood are etched into photographs

Of myself I keep in torn scrapbooks;

‘This Is Summer’ writ across the first page

And orange stains around each letter—

I have never learned to let go of both dream

And haunting memory.

Mango drips onto the floor—

Summer always lasted too long

And I stood too still,

Fingers sticky and blistered red.

I swallow mangoes whole now;

I only ever taste bitterness on my tongue

Zainab is a mixed Pakistani-South African writer in her second year of university. She writes poetry as a means to reconnect with her culture, and dabbles in genre fiction as well. Her poetry has been published in a local anthology.